The Last Man Standing
by Dalastjedi
Summary: Follow Corporal James Fisher as he accounts one of the many theaters of war the Humans fought The Covenant. But as the mission crumbles, what hope does he have to get off the planet before he is glassed with it?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Halo or any of 343 Industries' or Bungie's titles. Trust me on this.**

Unknown UNSC base

Sydney, Australia

Earth

Sol System

August 23, 2554

* * *

James Fisher sat in a dark room lit by a single lamp overhead. He sat at a glass table with his hands intertwined. He wore a simple grey UNSC jacket and grey trousers. Across from him sat a man wearing a black suit and black jeans. He held a touchpad and seemed to be scrolling through it.

The man's brown hair was combed neatly and his face had an unreadable expression. A mix of disinterest and mild annoyance.

After a while, he put the touchpad down and turned his attention to James. James glared at the man, but he seemed unaffected by it.

"Do you know why you are here, First Corporal Fisher?" he started, his voice clear and deep-as if it came from the bottom of his throat.

"No. But I'm guessing it has to be important for you to send armed guards to drag me out of my bunk at four in the morning." James replied, not bothering to hide the disdain in his voice. The man eyed him warily, his black eyes searching James' brown ones.

"Our reports show that your company has been on reprieve for the past two days. I don't believe that you had anything better to do." The words sounded bitter, but the neutral tone the man took made them sound more like a statement.

James released some of the tension in his shoulders and leaned back against his metal chair. "No, I didn't. So what do you want?" He said evenly. He felt that the more he cooperated, the sooner he would be done with this interrogation.

The man in the suit put the touchpad on the glass table. "Corporal Fisher, my name is Gillian Hill. I would like you to give me a full report on the Battle of Able."

James felt like bursting out in hysterical laughter and hitting the table until it broke, but the only sign of his discomfort showed in the form of his body posture straightening and his clenched hands reaching further across the table. New Acre. Able. They all brought up all sorts of bad memories. Memories he tried hard to forget.

"You brought me all the way here to give you a report on a battle that happened more than a decade ago?" James voice rose slightly with anger. "Yes, exactly." Gillian replied, even as ever.

James gestured to the touchpad. "You already have my damn report. What do you want me to tell you?"

Gillian took in another deep breath and pushed his chair further forward. "Do you know who I work for?" James gave him a confused look, 'Where was this going' "If I were to take a guess," He gestured at the badge on Gillian's suit. "I'd say you work for ONI."

The ONI symbol was unmistakable. A half-black and half-white pyramid with a circle in the centre. Gillian looked down at the badge and back at James. "Excellent educated guess, Corporal." Gillian's voice seemed sarcastic for a second before returning back to seriousness. "You asked why I wanted you to tell me your report," He waved the touchpad for James and then put it back down. "-eventhough I already have it, correct?" James gave a small, quick nod. Gillian took in a deep breath and flexed his shoulders.

"You see, Corporal, it's like a novel. You can read it as many times as you like," he began. "-but you really need to hear it from the author to get this… feeling from it. A certain enthusiasm whereby your perception of the story itself is different." Gillian put more emphasis on the ending of the sentence. "This is because it is coming from the mouth and mind of the one who created it, and not from the calculated and official. It has more passion and flare to it then anything." This made sense to James. 'But why does he want to know?'

Gillian leaned forward, closer to James. "I want to know your story, Corporal." He leaned back and picked up the touchpad and held it in both hands. "You may begin when ready." James could tell that there was no way to convince Gillian otherwise. His superiors had taken that certain tone before-and sometimes have even used the exact same words-and it didn't take him long to find out when superior officers took up the tone, there was no way to change their minds.

James took a deep breath, held it for a while, then let it out slowly. He thought for a while, going back to that event. All the memories slowly seeped into his mind, like a crack in the ceiling letting in rain water. He could almost see the memories through his closed eyes.

He put his hands on the table, letting his palms hang over the edge and leaving his fingers on the surface. "Where do you want me to start?" James asked. Gillian gave him a steel look before replying. "The beginning."


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: This Author's note only concerns you if you keep up with RWBY: The DAWN. But keep reading if you want. I know the series hasn't updated in a while, but we are still working on it. The work has just, and I am disappointed to say, slowed down. However, it has not stopped.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Halo or any similar product titles concerning them. Halo is owned by 343 Industries.**

UNSC Marathon-class Cruiser 'Saint Gabriel',  
Orbit over New Acre,  
Arcanus System,  
September 14th, 2541AD

"In the beginning God created the heavens and earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the spirit of God was hovering over the waters." James murmured softly in the corner of the dim room he was in, his MA37 assault rifle nuzzled up next to him. "And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated light from the darkness."

He felt a strong hand pat his shoulder, and he looked up to see Corporal Max 'Breaker' Monreau. "You done reading that religious junk?" he asked. "We're getting ready to drop."

He got up to go get a sidearm. "Hey this is not junk. My parents were always forcing this kinda stuff on me when I was younger."

"So why've I never caught you reading it before?" James looked to see Breaker walking over to the ammunitions rack as well.

"Because we barely made it out the last time." James reached for a M6 Magnum and holstered it. "And I want to believe that I'm going somewhere better when I die."

"Afraid your life won't mean anything?" Breaker asked as he reached for a couple of frag grenades, while scratching the thick, grey beard that covered most of his lower face.

"What the hell kind of question is that, Breaker? Of course I'm afraid my life'll mean nothing. I didn't sign up to be an ODST for the thrill of the ride."

Breaker nodded, his bald head shining slightly in the low light. "Right. You came here to kill aliens."

"I wouldn't personally put it like that." James mumbled. "Anyway, don't you want to know that you're going somewhere if and when a Jackal puts one through you?" James put his finder to his forehead for emphasis.

"There are two problems with that." He put up one finger. "One: The Jackals can kiss my ass if they think they're adding me to their list of head-shot kills." He put up another finger. "Two: I don't care if I go to hell." Breaker walked off towards one of the Single-Occupant Exoatmospheric Insertion Vehicles.

"And why, might I ask, is that?"

Breaker was testing the hydraulics on the doors as he turned to James. "Because I drop onto a burning planet and shoot aliens for a living, Fisher. Hell can't be worse than that."

The doors to the 'Drop Room', as James liked to put it, opened to reveal two other members of their team. One of them strode confidently across the room. "You boys ready to die today?" she asked to no one in particular, carrying her helmet in her arms.

"Good morning to you to, Ashley." James said, checking that his helmet was calibrated to the time of the planet as well as having a second standard clock.

Private Ashley Dunner had enlisted into the army at the same time James had, but unfortunately for her, the Staff Sergeant hadn't see it fit to promote her to Lance Corporal like James. Despite the fact that they had been serving for over eight months on at least six different theatres of war.

"Any word from The Boss?" Breaker asked Lance Corporal Sam 'Snow' McGill, who was attaching a silencer onto his magnum.

"Not yet. Though he told me to that we should be ready to drop the second he walks through that door." He pulled out his small, trademark cigar holder and immediately started puffing it.

"C'mon, Snow. This is a no smoking zone." James complained. "If you want to puff your Sweet William, or whatever it is, do it outside."

"Don't start with the Sweet Williams, those are a classic vintage, and should be respected." He warned jokingly, pointing a finger to James accusingly.

James just shook it off and walked over to Ashley, who was checking the time on a flip-open pocket watch. The first pocket watch that he had ever seen in his life. He sat down on the bench next to her. "Everything alright?" he asked.

She shook her head solemnly. "I had another dream about him, Jim." James knew from past conversations that she was talking about her father. In a nutshell, Ashley and her father never got along well. "I don't think he would've ever imagined that I'd be doing what I'm doing now." She closed the watch and began tying up her short hair into a bun.

"I don't think any of our parents could've imagined we'd fight aliens bent on turning our colonies into snow globes." He said, slipping on his helmet and securing it.

The sound of heavy footsteps drew their attention to a tall, muscular, imposing man with his ODST helmet already on.

"Staff Sergeant on deck!" Ashley shouted, which was followed by a crisp salute, which the rest of the squad did not hesitate to follow.

"At ease." He turned to Snow, who had grasped the cigar in his left hand, extinguishing it, during his salute. "Trust me, Snow. Black Princes are better."

"Sir, with all due respect," Snow continued while slipping on his helmet. "I work on an ODST's salary. I don't have the money to afford the vintage twenty-third century crap."

"Yeah, well if you want your next month's salary, you'll get in that pod and get ready to drop." He said as he slammed his palm into a button in the wall that sounded an alarm and caused a red light to begin flashing, then reached for a few frag grenades and a standard M392 designated marksman rifle, as he already wore his pistol like an accessory.

With that, the shock troopers began filing into their pods. James was the first into his, fastening the harnesses like his life depended on it-because his life depended on it. "Any hints or road-signs on where to be?" Ashley asked the staff sergeant as she got into her own pod.

Heler transmitted on a squad wide frequency. "The Covenant have the city of Able on full siege. It's gonna be hell trying to get our men out of there. But there will be a small window of opportunity as the fleet launches an all-out assault on the Covenant's." the pod doors closed and James listened quietly as the pod began being moved into place. "Other than that, we've got an artillery and sniper unit pinned down at a Majesty Hotel. Regrouping will be the primary objective, after that we'll split the team up to send reinforcements to Majesty."

He looked down through the opening that he and the other members of his squad would fall through towards the planet. He could faintly make out the scarred surface of the planet through the small, three inch thick tempered glass of the SOEIV pod, as well as the wreckage of several UNSC and Covenant battleships. James saw the overhead lights as they lit up. _Red. Red. Green!_ He felt a sudden jolt as the mechanism holding up the pod released its primary grip system. The secondary grip was released, and James began plummeting towards the planet.

James tried his hardest to still his beating heart, but there was something about falling from the outer atmosphere in a titanium shell at more than two hundred kilometres per hour that always got his adrenaline pumping. He switched his comm. to open frequency, to try to get an idea how bad the situation was and take his mind off the drop.

By this point, there was more chatter planet-side than there was in orbit. The fleet had just slipped in as The Covenant had all but obliterate the Colonial Military Administration's small fleet of frigates that protected the planet. James only had to glance out the window to see the two fleets engaging each other, spitting bolts of yellow and purple from one side to the other. Some shots leaving trails of similar colours. The twisted and melted remains of some ships littered the orbit around New Acre.

A shuddered and a sharp bump-like force knocked James out of this trance. He had just entered the planet's troposphere, and from here on out, it would only get rougher. Passing through the clouds, he saw the city of Able below him. Skyscrapers were crumbling apart, and buildings were set ablaze. Blue and purple flames spout out of the streets as tiny streaks from James' height. At the edge of the city, towards a mountain range, he could see a Covenant Carrier hovering, waiting to glass the city.

A crackle in his ear caused him to refocus from the scenery to the operation. "Ok, everyone. Deploy your chutes on my mark…Mark!" Heler shouted, which was followed by several SOEIV pods firing off their brakes and deploying their steel parachutes.

James did so, which made him feel like he was slowing down tremendously according to the scale in the pod, though it didn't seem like that when he looked out.

Now just fourteen kilometres from the surface of the planet, he could make out small green shapes that were the D77-TC Pelican Dropships. They zipped across the sky undertaking all manner of dangerous operations. Some were even being pursued by a Phantom or some Banshees, which were in turn, tailed by AV-14 Hornet crafts and UH-144 Falcons.

"Looks pretty bad, huh?" he said into his helmet, opening a private comlink with Breaker.

"Eh, could be worse." Breaker simply replied. "Dang, I think I'm gonna land in a casino!"

James chuckled, "Is that what it looks like? I can't see it."

"Yeah, looks like a casino. There's a lot of air traffic though, huh?" James looked down to see if he had to swivel the pod away from anything he might not crawl out from.

"Seems that way, must be a whole lotta-" he was interrupted by another the crackle of a comlink opening up.

"Jim, keep your eyes open. There's a few Phantom and Banshee squads below where you are." Ashley warned, causing James to wonder for a moment which pod was hers, as he had lost track in the troposphere.

"I don't think-" the pod suddenly jarred into a painful spin that gave James a headache and made him want to throw up.

As he was spinning out of control, he could've sworn he heard Ashley shout his name, before a hard collision caused his vision to go white, then dark.


	3. Chapter 2

South-east Able, Mortum,  
New Able,  
September 14th 2541,  
1720 Standard UNSC Time,  
2 hours after initial drop,

In the sub-conscious of James' mind, his brain felt like it was slowly having electricity pumped into it. He moved his mouth unintentionally, trying to feel the feeling in his mouth.

The first thing James thought when he regained consciousness was that he was having a very bad day. He let out a groan that echoed though the cracked and dented hull of the ODST pod, his legs and back aching the most. When he opened his eyes, he first tried to get an idea of where he had landed, but the glass had been coated over with a layer of dust and the parts that weren't caked in inch-thick dust showed him the sky and the rooftops of high-rises. Though, judging by his position, he made out that the pod had landed with his back to the ground.

He tried to stretch his body to the left, then to the right, only to find that there was a sharp pain in his right hand. He looked down to see some blood splashed on the interior of the pod. A large piece of the thick glass that screened the pod had chipped loose and decided to embed itself in James' right hand.

James tapped the on button to his heads up display on his helmet, as it had turned off to find that it didn't work, surprisingly as ODST helmets were quite robust. He tried again, only this time, when it did not work, he slapped the side of the helmet, which caused the HUD to come to life. He checked the time and was shock that he had been out for more than two hours, thinking that his since his squad didn't come to look for him that they had to be either very tied up with their work, or presumed him dead. The latter being the less likely.

He then tried to go for his field kit, but realised that it was behind the seat. In such confined space, he couldn't shift far enough forward to reach behind and get the kit. Not to mention the fact that he was almost completely on his back because of the angle the pod faced. He began trying to fire the emergency release bolts on the pod door, as toggling the switch to open the door didn't work.

There was a loud hiss and a straining sound, but the door did not seem to budge. James then began trying to kick the door open. 'If I can unlatch the main door, the bolts may just do the rest of the work.'

He kicked it two more times before stopping when he hears unfamiliar chatter. James then stiffened and slowed his breathing-unnecessary as he was still wearing his helmet-until he was almost perfectly still. In the distance, James could hear the sound of footsteps against loose bits of concrete, pavement and glass. He waited as the footsteps got closer and closer, until they were just outside of his pod.

Then, a hand was pressed against the scratched and began wiping away the dust, causing James' heart to double its pace. Then, the dog-like face of a Grunt was pressed against the glass. It seemed to examine James for a few moments, before another high-pitch squeal broke it's focus and it moved on.

James let his body relax, but only continued to try and exit the pod after he was sure that not another sound could be heard. He kicked the door repeatedly with all of his might, which was not much considering how little space he had to move in. 'I am not going to die in this damn pod.' He thought as a kick caused the door to shift slightly. He stopped kicking the door and began pushing on it as hard as he could. With a grunt of effort, he caused the door to shift even further, allowing for a loud hiss, followed by a small gas explosion that sent the door flying. It landed with a loud clanking sound.

James knew he had to move quickly, as the sound would likely attract Covenant straggles if he was lucky. If he wasn't, he might've just alerted a battalion.

He climbed out of the pod with a groan, stretching his arms and legs. He reached back into the pod to grab his assault rifle and magnum, as well as the medical kit. He attached the rifle to his back and began looking for a well-covered place to bandage and bio-foam his hand. Already, he felt like The Covenant knew exactly where he was.

He made a beeline for one of the high-rises with a broken window just as a Covenant Spirit flew overhead, it's engines wailing in the quiet streets. He crawled into a café and hid behind the counter. After performing the routine medical procedure, he opened up his communications on a squad-wide frequency. "This is Lance Corporal James Fisher, does anyone copy?"

He waited, but his only response was the crackle of white noise. "Squad Tango-Five, this is James Fisher. Does anyone copy?" still no response. He was wondering why his squad wasn't responding when he heard the sound of glass breaking. He peered over the counter to see a small squad of three Grunts and one sniper Jackal.

James looked around for a rock, wanting to try out a trick he learned from a former squad-mate. He picked up a piece of the building that had fallen from the ceiling and watched as the Grunts waddled over to analyse his pod, toying with the doors. He hurled the rock as hard as he could at a window on the building opposite him. The rock fell short and hit the pavement, but it still did its job to draw the attention of the Grunts.

He waited as the Jackal ordered the Grunts to go find out what the noise was, and waited some more until the Grunts were a good three metres away from the Jackal. Then, he slid over the counter, making sure not to knock over or break anything.

James made a mad dash for the Jackal, drawing forth his combat knife. He was two feet away from the Jackal when he stepped on a thin, loose piece of pavement which made a loud, audible crack. The Jackal turned around at the sound, but James was able to close the distance just in time and stick his knife into the Jackal's neck as it gave of a loud, gurgled squawk.

That was all that it took to gain the attention of the Grunts, but as they turned around James used the Beam Rifle that the Jackal was holding to fire beam after beam of flesh-searing energy at the Grunts. He fired until the gun overheated, singeing his hand as causing him to drop the rifle. But by then, the Grunts were all dead.

He dropped the Jackal's body with a thump. Wondering how to proceed from here. He opened a wider frequency that the rest of the division could pick up. "32nd Rifle Division, this is Lance Corporal James Fisher, does anyone copy?" He was once again met with white noise static. He gave up trying to open communications after that.

'I better regroup with a unit.' Looking down both directions that he could take through the street. To one end, there was a tall skyscraper with a large satellite dish at the top of it. To the left, what laid beyond could not be seen because of a large mass of a building that had collapsed.

He eventually decided to go left, towards what appeared to be a roundabout intersection. Just as he was about to enter the intersection, he noticed that several Covenant squads had gathered in the centre of the intersection. The squads were mainly comprised of Elites, as far as James could see, as he wasn't sure how many Grunt squatters were hiding in the surrounding buildings and ruins.

The Elites seemed to be standing around a mix of dead squads, probably gloating over their kill. James considered his odds on whether he should try to sneak around them or double back down the other way out of the street.

That was when he saw it; the flash of a laser-sight from a building. It was directed towards him and was…flickering? It flickered three times, then held. It repeated for several instances when James picked up on it. It was a new code.

Three dashes. Wait. For. It.

James only had to wait two seconds before the sniper rounds rang out. They punched through the Elite's energy shielding and caused the Elites to drop to the ground, which were followed by a second salvo of shots that effectively killed the Elites. James saw the Grunts and Jackals panic, firing wildly at the buildings and running out of spots where James could not see them. That was James' cue as he rounded the corner and opened up on the aliens with his assault rifle. They were startled by him, and immediately began to focus all their fire on him, forgetting about the snipers that fired a third salvo at some of the Jackals that had hidden themselves behind make-shift cover. After he had emptied his second clip, all the Covenant forces were dead.

He heard more footsteps coming from the buildings and drew his pistol, but lowered it when he saw UNSC forces signalling him over. When he was in the building, the sergeant spoke. "What's you designation soldier?"

"Fisher, James, ODST, 32nd Rifle Division." He spoke with a crisp salute.

"I can see that." The sergeant said, gesturing to his armour. "At ease, marine."

He relaxed and saw that this was a sniper team by the looks of the rest of the soldier, who all had special helmets with tactical-sights and sniper rifles.

"Fine timing you had," the sergeant continued, leading him further into the building, passing flickering lights and supplies. "-coming along when those damn Covies sprung our trap. You just about saved us a salvo of ammunition." He led Fisher through to the other side of the building, where another sniper was camping behind a steel barricade. "Status!"

"The area seems clear, sir. But there might be squatters in that garage." The sniper replied. "I saw Grunt movement, but didn't have a clear shot."

"That's fine, didn't want you to take the shot anyway. Might've blown our cover." He turned back to James. "All right shock trooper, you're with us now. You will address me as 'Sergeant' or 'Sergeant Fukhikoto'. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." He replied before following it up with a question. "Sergeant, if I may ask. I haven't been able to raise the rest of my squad. There seems to be something wrong with the comms."

"That's what we're working on. The Covenant have set up a series of signal jammers. We're trying to commandeer some of the Warthogs in that garage over there," He pointed to a flat-roofed, two storey building. "-so that we can head over and destroy as many jammers as we can. The more jammers we destroy, the more area we restore comms. to."

James nodded with affirmation. "When do we head out?"

Sergeant Fukhikoto reached for a DMR and M7/caseless submachine gun that were lying against a crate next to the barricade. "When you're ready. You look like you could use some more ammunition."


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: It's been a while since I've picked this up, but I'll try to make this more of a regular thing.**

South-east Able, Mortum,  
New Acre,  
September 14th 2541,  
1735 Standard UNSC Time,

"Move up!" Sergeant Fukhikoto barked over the James' head, catching the attention of several Grunts that were wandering the streets or carrying machine parts while being ordered by Elites.

The Grunts were quickly dispatched by the marines around the sergeant, though the Elite was more nimble and dodged most of the bullets before hideing behind a pillar that supported the repair shop they were attempting to raid.

"I'll draw his fire!" A marine shouted, advancing to a car that had crashed into a truck. The marine began to pepper the Elite's position with fire from his Battle Rifle through the broken windows of the car.

The Elite, in return, made several careless shots from the hip with his Plasma Rifle. This gave the sergeant the chance to sneak around the Elite and open up on him with his SMG. The Elite wailed in pain as it went down after having a third of the weapon's magazine embedded into its legs. The sergeant moved to finish him off with his combat knife, when a loud buzzing could be heard from inside the repair shop.

Out of the front door and garage doors, Drones began to fly about, firing on the marines with their Plasma Pistols and Needlers as they did. James quickly took cover behind a raised flowerbed that was supported on all sides by concrete, while some of the other marines weren't as lucky.

He began firing on the Drones that were still in flight, leaving the ones that decided to land on the sides of the buildings for the other marines. He rapidly fired on three different Drones, downing all of them, before he ducked behind his cover. While he was reloading his rifle, a Drone landed right on his cover and began trying to stick its thin, slimy arms under his helmet.

He had to grapple with the Drone while reaching for his pistol. He watched in heightened anxiety as the Drone brought its pistol right to his head before pulling its arm back while charging it up, ready to slam the ball of heated plasma into the side of his helmet. He finally found the handle of his Magnum and put it right under the Drone's chin, where he fired off two rounds before ducking under the insect's reflexive swing.

James needed a moment to catch his breath as his vision became clearer from the rush he got by that close brush with death. After two seconds, he sprung back over the cover, weapon drawn only to find that the shooting had stopped.

"Fisher, you still there?" the sergeant yelled. James looked around, trying to locate the voice when he saw the sergeant dragging the corpse of a marine behind a burnt-out bus.

"Yeah. What's next?" he asked, reloading his rifle.

"The Elite is still kicking. I'll move to finish it off, you cover me."

"Copy that. On three." James readied himself into a stance that would allow him to pounce over the cover and break into a sprint.

"Three!" James vaulted over the cover and began searching for a target. A target made itself apparent as a Drone began firing on him from the side of a building. James returned fire and watched as his bullets sprayed its green blood all over the wall.

A beam of heated energy streaked through the air and struck the pavement inches from the sergeant. James quickly traced the shot to a Jackal several metres away, concealed behind the third-story window of a building.

James saw several other Jackals open fire next to the sniper on several other positions, including his. Several other members of the squad began firing on the Jackals from their positions, though only the snipers had any luck at killing them.

When the shooting from both sides died down, a voice broke the crisp atmosphere. "Squad, regroup!" Turning his attention back to the sergeant's position, he slowly and carefully moved backwards to the growing group of marines, wary of stragglers that might be lurking around any corners.

Eventually, all the remaining marines gathered by the front entrance to the garage, where Sergeant Fukhikoto was wiping purple blood off his combat knife. Next to him lay two dead Elites, propped up against either wall.

"The bastard was hiding in the building." He explained to anyone that might have been curious where the second Elite came from. "Jumped out when I was about to finish off his ex."

Panting heavily from the exertion, one of the marine's spoke up. "What now, Sarge?"

With the sound of cannon fire in the distance, the sergeant responded. "Now we head in there and see if there are any working Hogs that we can use to get to the closest signal jammer." With that, several marines marched into the garage, out of Fisher's sight. "Private Song, any progress on re-establishing communications?" he asked while one of the privates began to set up a signal booster.

"Not yet, sir. Though, with the way the Covenant signal jammers work, I can pin-point roughly where the closest jammer is set up."

"Keep trying." Fukhikoto ordered as he moved around to join the other marines trying to start up the M12 Force Application Vehicle. "What've you got so far?" he shouted.

"Four of these things seem to be in working condition, sir. None of them have any weapons on them, though." One of the soldiers responded.

"Damn civilian vehicles." The sergeant muttered under his breath before turning to the ODST. "Fisher, I want you to go back out there and see if there are any Warthogs with working mounted-turrets. If you find one, radio back on the local channel and I'll send someone to help you get it removed."

"Sir." James responded before taking off into the city, which now seemed to glow an ominous amber-purple because of the setting sun and the lights from Covenant cruisers overhead.

Fisher jogged down the streets under the cover of the shadow of an overhanging skyscraper, keeping his eyes open for any vehicle that didn't look like a pile of molten metal. He barely made it four blocks before he heard an ominous hum that he had heard many times before. Ducking into an alley and hiding behind a garbage bin, Fisher tried to control his breathing while peering around the rectangular metal bin, spotting what had made the humming noise; a Type-26 Assault Wraith.

The heavily-armoured Covenant tank glided down the street, seeming to be on a patrol. If he was careful, the ODST could have slipped out of the alleyway and continued on his search without fear of being spotted by the deadly vehicle.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

At the opposite end of the alley, an Elite spotted Fisher while he was leaning over the garbage bin and let out an alien war cry before lobbing a grenade his way.

With the narrow alley providing him no other way to avoid the plasma grenade, James did the only thing he could and vaulted over the garbage bin and into the streets with the Wraith. Just as he had anticipated, the sound of the explosion caught the attention of the Wraith as it swivelled around and began firing bolts of blue plasma out of its twin repeating cannons.

Fisher's only choice was to sprint as fast as he could down the street and the bend to hopefully find somewhere to hide from the monstrosity. Though, knowing the kind of firepower the tank had on it, there wouldn't be many places he could hide.

Priming a frag grenade, Fisher tossed it over his shoulder as soon as he managed to turn around the corner, catching the Wraith tank with the explosion just as it passed around the building. The small explosion did nothing to hinder the massive alien weapon as it fired its plasma mortar and destroyed a section of the building ahead, causing debris to rain down in front of Fisher as he ran.

Without so much as a rocket launcher, there was nothing that the ODST could do that would stop the Wraith completely. His adrenaline level was through the roof as he ran for his life, worrying that the sounds of combat might draw more Covenant soldiers or vehicles to the scene.

Instead, the sounds of fighting drew help.

Seemingly from nowhere, a single rocket crossed the street and struck the Wraith in the side, damaging the hull quite badly and drawing its attention away from James. As the large tank was turning in its spot, three Warthogs drove by while the occupants fired at it with whatever weaponry they had.

One of the Warthog's stopped at Fisher's side as its driver, Sergeant Fukhikoto, waved for Fisher to get into the car while honking the vehicle's horn.

The shock trooper complied without question, hopping onto the empty back of the car just before it sped off down the road.

"Where did you find rocket launchers?" he asked the sergeant as he found his footing on the unstable floor.

" _A_ rocket launcher." The sergeant corrected. "And it only had one shot. When we heard the Wraith, I figured it was now or never." He explained as a pair of Covenant Type-32 Ghost joined the Wraith in its pursuit of the Human vehicles. "Dammit, ok. Team One, split off and draw the Wraith with you. We'll reconvene by the second jammer – you boys just do whatever it takes to bring it down or get away from it." Fukhikoto shouted into the local communications link.

One of the Warthogs honked its horn in acknowledgement before taking off down a different street, taking an overpass that crossed a small river that ran through the metropolitan area.

"Warthog Two, try to break away and draw one of the Ghosts with you. If you can't make a break for the first jammer and we'll meet up with you. If we're not there by 2100 hours, continue the mission without us." The second Warthog honked its horn in acknowledgement before taking off at a three-way intersect, drawing one Ghost away with it.

"Hey," Fisher called out. "I thought there were four working Warthogs."

"There are, one stayed behind for the man with the empty rocket launcher." Fukhikoto explained just as the Ghost started firing rounds of plasma at them. "Dammit! Looks like they're done playing tag."

Standing up to full height, Fisher holstered his rifle before bending his knees slightly and looking for an opening. "I can take care of the Ghost."

"Whaddaya mean? Wait…" the Ghost slowed down ever so slightly to allow for it to fire another salvo at the Warthog, melting some of the metal plating. "Don't do it, Marine!"

Fisher was already in the air as the sergeant shouted the order, arms extended out on either side to grab the wings of the Ghost as he slammed into the purple alien metal.

"Hi!" Fisher grunted to the startled Elite as he reached for his pistol, putting the weapon to the alien's head before unloading three shots. It's full body shielding allowed it to take the first two shots, but at the cost of disorientation and making it sway to the side to avoid the third shot. In the process of doing so, the Elite accidentally pulled on the controls of the speeder and caused it to suddenly turn and almost shake Fisher off.

Instead – unprepared for the sudden movement, the Elite was thrown out of his seat and rolled across the ground as the Ghost slowed to a halt before landing softly.

James felt very close to losing his stomach contents right there on the side of the road from all the sudden movements, and – against his better judgement – took off his helmet to take in some fresh air. After a second of his deep breathing exercises, his ears pricked up at the sound of angry-sounding alien-talk.

Looking to his right, the disoriented Elite had withdrawn its Energy Sword and was now making its way slowly towards Fisher.

The ODST's first instinct was to reach for his pistol, but found that it had flown from his grip during the ride. His hands next flew for the assault rifle strapped to his back and pulled it forward. This seemed to cause the Elite to kick into high-gear as it sprinted towards Fisher, plasma blade dragging across the ground.

The split-face alien never reached Fisher, as a Warthog suddenly rammed into its side and sent its limp body flying into the wall of a building, splattering purple alien blood all over the wall.

Following sheer instinct, James took aim at the Warthog for a moment, assessing it as the greater threat before realising it was a friendly. Sergeant Fukhikoto jumped out of the Warthog a second later as the Elite's body slid to the ground. "You ok there, Fisher?"

"Yeah, thanks for the save, sergeant." Fisher replied while holstering his sidearm and slipping his back on helmet.

"That was very reckless of you – even for an ODST, but I can't argue with the results." The sergeant said while he walked over to the splattered corpse of the Elite. Peeling the body off the side of the wall, he picked up the hilt of the Elite's Energy Sword and activated it. "I've always wanted one of these." Fukhikoto thought out loud as he admired the weapon before deactivating the plasma blades and attaching the weapon to his belt as he walked back over to the Warthog.

Hopping in to the driver's seat, sergeant Fukhikoto looked at Fisher as the ODST seemed to be walking in circles around the Ghost. "Fisher, you coming or what?"

"This Ghost is still in pretty good shape, and I've driven one before." He explained as he climbed into the seat. 'Let's see if I still remember how to start this thing…' he thought to himself while pulling back on the handles, causing the Ghost to light up and start hovering.

"Nice job marine, plan's still the same," he shouted as he pulled out of the sidewalk and back onto the main road. "We're going to take down that signal jammer – with or without the rest of the team."

"Do you think the three of us will be able to pull it off, Sarge?" the marine in the passenger seat next to Fukhikoto asked.

"Only one way to find out." Fukhikoto said while throttling the gas pedal, causing the Warthog to speed down the street littered with debris.

Behind it, Fisher struggled to keep up with the unfamiliar controls of the alien craft, but he managed as well as any marine would.


End file.
